RequiredSurrender (29 page)

“I—” Her tone was strained. Desperate. He thought maybe she
was fighting off the urge she had to do as he told her but then he was
completely stunned as she cried out, “I love you, Master.”

The echo of those long-awaited words rushed through him,
even as he grunted and let the heavy inner contractions pull him in tighter
when she came. His heart hammered as primal satisfaction filled him. He fisted
a hand in her hair and tugged her head to the side so he could see her. “You
gorgeous, fucking whore. That’s right. Say it again.”

“I love you, Master.”

And the moment she started to quiver with aftershock
shudders he did what he’d been dying to do since he recognized the blouse and
remembered that scene from a lifetime ago. He dropped the bullet and shifted
back before rocking forward. Slow at first. Calm and patient as the sweat
beaded his forehead and his every instinct to ram and claim had to be tamped
down. It wasn’t until she bucked back aggressively that he let go of his
restraint and allowed his baser needs take over. Her gentle submission
unfurling to open under his rough pounding was humbling. But before that
thought could take root he lost himself in the moment with her. Riding her hard
and without mercy. She was his and he was going to prove it to her.

Time and space went by the wayside. The concepts lost all
meaning as every ingrained taboo deserted her. She had no shame, fear or
humiliation as she welcomed the pressure of him invading her body this way. She
was on fire and loving the burn. The ever-shifting degrees of pain challenged
her at every turn, yet she breathed through them all until the white-hot flare
of sensation transcended into a fuzzy warm glow. The one time she opened her
eyes she saw sparks that turned to a cloudy haze, bringing a sense of inner
peace. A calm that curled and unraveled within her at languid speed. Filling
and welcoming her to a darker side of herself that had no will and no desire to
be anywhere else than here with him. He didn’t take what he wanted from her
because she was gladly giving it to him.

When he fisted his hand in her hair this time and pulled she
moved with him. Easily with total acquiescence. She was his to command and
guide.

“You sweet fucking whore.”

Those words touched her skin and sent a thrill ricocheting
through her. She wanted to be his whore. She wanted to be anything he wanted
her to be. “Yes, yes.”

He consumed her. His hot breath at her neck. The heat and
moisture of his skin against hers. The smell of him. The flavor of him as she
imagined him to taste all the days they’d been apart. This is what she needed.
He was her anchor. The one person strong enough to push her to the edge only to
save her from it.

“Come for me again, whore. Do it. I want everyone to see
what a good slut you are for me.”

The words had no meaning. It was the desire he had and what
he wanted of her that she staked claim to. Embracing the deepest part of
herself. The loneliest place she’d coveted and kept secret. Locked away from
the rest of world until now when she gave that spot one last hug and then with
vivid clarity, she opened for him. Unequivocally and completely. Screaming as
she came, “I love you, Master.” And riding the heavy waves that rolled through
her. One peak, an ebb to peak again. Over and over she climbed and fell.
Vicious and soothing at once.

“I love you,” she whispered again and again until finally
the experience took her outside herself. Away from her critical thinking mind
and slammed her into a space that was devoid of sounds, smells and physical
consequence. She was numb. Floating. Available to him in such a way it should
have terrified her, but it didn’t. Instead she embraced the soul-shattering
experience. “I love you, Master.”

“Jesus fuck.”

She knew that he pounded into her. That he bit her back,
pulled her hair and crushed her as he forced her hip bones to heavily beat
against the wall, but it was okay. It was better than okay. For the first time
in her life she felt. Truly felt connected to herself, which gave her the
freedom to connect with him on an intoxicating level.

She didn’t know how long she’d stayed clinging to the wall
once he’d finished. Slowly, very slowly the sounds around her began to trickle
in, and when he moved and the cooler air touched her hot skin, she shivered to
a higher level of consciousness.

He was leaving her. That was her first thought. “D-don’t
l-leave m-me.”

She wasn’t sure that he heard. She tried to open her eyes
and get grounded, but her lids felt like they had ten-pound weights attached to
them. Was that his zipper? The sound was like rapid gunfire to her ears. She
hated it. Why wouldn’t her eyelids cooperate? God, the hard wall against her
breasts and belly was oddly comforting, making her snuggle up on it. Friction
that was what she needed. Her body craved touch, and if he wasn’t going to give
it to her, she’d find it from the most convenient source available.

“You’d really make a great whore. Your body needs contact.
Any kind of contact, doesn’t it?” He was right at her ear as he brushed her
hair aside. “You’re so easy. Jo, pay attention. Listen. If you want to be this
in the truest sense of the word this time,” he slipped a hand between her legs
and cupped her mound in a hard squeeze, “be at the house tomorrow night, eight
p.m.”

She licked her lips, wanting so hard to speak but she
couldn’t.

He squeezed her again. “If you want it, be there. Tomorrow
night. One minute after eight will be too late, understood?”

She hoped he saw her nod. She prayed that he did because she
couldn’t do more than that.

He stepped away and she felt completely and utterly lost
until he said, “Now pull up your pants.”

And with those words she had the urge to crawl into a hole
to hide. The flat tone of his voice, tinged with disgust slashed straight
through to her soul. Deeper than that, right to her core, and even though she
knew he was gone, she wouldn’t disappoint him. Now that he had left her, she
dug deep within and marshaled every bit of strength she had to pull herself
together. Leaning heavily into the wall, she tugged up her panties and then her
jeans. With a steadying breath she stood up straight, shook her hair behind her
back and righted her clothes. She didn’t remember walking out of the green
room. It wasn’t until she viewed her reflection in the bathroom mirror in the
club that she came back to herself.

Funny, she looked no different than before, but here again
she felt like a stranger was staring back at her. She remembered Ted, that
first night with the ropes, when he tenderly cupped her chin and told her she
wasn’t a stranger to him. Was this how it happened? She became more known to
him than to herself?

He’d cupped another part of her tonight. Asking her if she
wanted…

Slowly the words came to her. If she wanted to be this? He’d
written on her before he’d spun her around. Before he… She stared at that stranger’s
reflection a moment more and then looked down, parted her zipper and exposed
herself. One glimpse, two after she confirmed it in the glass, and she gasped.
There beneath his name she’d inked on herself were the words “sex slave”.

Ted Basel’s sex slave.

She caught the edge of the sink in a sway and gulped in air.
Not because of the words. Shocking though they were, she was used to them. But
the sight on her, on the place he’d wanted so badly to claim that day in
Lenny’s shop brought home how well and truly she was his. His. And the
titillating waves that coursed through her at the thought nearly knocked the
wind out of her.

She readjusted her pants and did them up.

You’re his.

She breathed in deep, gave herself a mental shake and ran a
hand through her hair.

You can’t be owned. Don’t go to him tomorrow. You can’t.
You shouldn’t
.

Then she spied the red patch on her neck. The irritated skin
he’d bitten so erotically. She reached up and touched it. The pleasurable pain
that came to life inside her made her quiver. Hadn’t she decided there’d be no
more inner battle? She was giving everything up so he could give her
everything.

Yes. She took a cleansing breath.

Tomorrow she’d go to him and do whatever she had to do to
remain recognizable. Known. She was tired of being a stranger. Ted had found
her and the thought that she’d never be lost again gave her a sense of power
that shocked her. There was no weakness in being one man’s everything. It was
empowering. And as she walked to the front doors she couldn’t help thinking
about Ted’s apple theory and how it related to her. From the outside she had
looked all perfect and shiny. It wasn’t until he peeled that layer away that
she was forced to examine her bruises and accept them. Something she never
could have done without him seeing them and accepting them first.

“Ms. Nehr?”

Jo stopped at the door but didn’t turn to look at the guy
who spoke. “Y-yes?”

“My name is Michael Buckley and I’m to take you home. If you
give me your car keys one of the other drivers will follow us in your car.”

“Is this what Mr. Basel wishes?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her hands shook as she fumbled with the latch on her purse.
“Here,” she handed her keys to him and stepped out into the cool night air, “do
you have a bar in your limo?”

“Fully stocked. There’s snacks too. Mr. Basel thought you’d
enjoy some fruit.” He held the car door open for her and waited for her to get
in. “Shall I get you some?”

Jo slid back in the soft leather and sighed. “Yes, some
chilled grapes crushed into a crisp chardonnay would be nice.”

Ted let out a breath. He watched Jo from across the parking
lot as she walked to the car with Michael. She appeared so together that he was
relieved. Relieved and mad at the same time. This was dangerous ground he was
on.

Cam twisted to look at him. “Mike’s taking her home and Sean
is going to follow and bring her car. Do you want to go home now?”

“Sure. Take the shortcut tonight. I’m beat.”

“Will do.”

Finding himself alone and suddenly without distractions, he
leaned back in the seat and spread his legs out in front of him. Time for
recriminations. When he thought about what he’d done tonight, he groaned.
Normally, he would have comforted the woman he’d just used so thoroughly, but
with Jo he hadn’t. Worse, he’d demeaned her. It made him uncomfortable, that’s
probably why he didn’t hit the shower in his office. He’d simply done a local
cleanup before tracking Cam down. Thinking about it now, he decided this may
have been a subconscious need to stay as dirty as he knew he’d made her feel.

“Pansy-ass bleeding heart.”

She’s hooked you. Just like Selena…

“Mr. White is calling.”

Ted pressed the speaker button and said, “Ignore the call.”

He wasn’t in the mood to explain his actions. He had no
doubt word of his and Jo’s heated exchange was spreading like wildfire by now.
Add to this, the whispers of how he’d left her. How he’d broken the code and
disgraced himself was sure to get Ethan all up in his face. Ethan was a tough
act to follow as he never did anything wrong. He was meticulous to a fault and always
thinking one step ahead when it came to his woman.

Well, Jo wasn’t Ted’s woman. She was his possession. His
property and come tomorrow she was going to know it.

She knew it tonight
. She acknowledged it beautifully
tonight when she sweetly surrendered to you…

“Fucking surrender bullshit.”

You thought Selena had surrendered.

“There’s no such thing,” he whispered.

Rain had begun to fall and beat in steady rhythm against the
passenger window. Dismal. Yeah, that’s how he felt. He should be glad with the
way things had turned out. Now Jo would never be in a position to hurt him like
he’d been hurt before when—

“Fuck.” He swiped the back of his hand over his eyes and
then looked up as he worked to maintain his composure. He wasn’t going to
stress out over a past that couldn’t be changed. Over a woman who couldn’t be
saved. Over the loss of that part of him she’d killed. That piece that would
have loved the hell out of someone like Josephine Nehr.

Chapter Twenty-One

There was only one thing Jo brought with her when Cam came
to pick her up the following night. Her dragon. Stupid though it was, lame
really, she clung to him like he was her last lifeline. Of course, over the
last little while he had been. He’d been her shoulder to cry on, and she had.
In the dark hours. In the middle of the night when she was the loneliest. She’d
cried her heart out, but it was all good. She was coming off seven years of a
dry spell so a flood was to be expected. It had certain advantages. She didn’t
think she had any more tears left to shed, so that was something.

“Thank you, Cam.”

She got into the car and laid the dragon over her lap.

“Ms. Nehr?”

She looked up and saw him eyeing her in the rearview. “Yes?”

“You look wonderful this evening.”

She blinked. A little surprised that he’d complimented her.
“Thank you.”

He nodded. “You and Mr. Basel are good for one another, I
think.”

That’s all he said but it was enough. She’d been thinking
the same thing even after what happened between her and Ted last night, or
maybe because of it. She couldn’t be sure. All she really knew as she walked up
that familiar walkway twenty minutes later, arriving at his door, was that she
was at peace for the first time in her adult life. There was nothing hanging
over her head. No sordid happenings in her past that she had to hide, Ted knew
them all. There were no more lies between them, because he’d discovered them.
He knew all her fears and helped her face them. All that was left was her.

She stared at the door before ringing the bell. This was
what he’d meant when he’d said an authentic relationship came down to intimacy.
If she hadn’t shared the deepest parts of herself with him, she’d still be
adrift in a minefield of pain. A stranger buried inside the imaginary version
of herself she showed to the rest of the world. Good or bad. Stern or gentle.
He’d forced her to be real at every turn no matter how painful or awkward.

When he opened the door and she saw him her heart swelled.
This was where she was meant to be. Whether she was by his side or kneeling at
his feet, it was home to her.

“Hello, Jo. Come in.”

She walked by him and put her dragon down beside the mat and
took a moment to prop him up against the wall. When she straightened she heard
the deadbolt click.

“I’ll be upstairs. Top floor. Don’t keep me waiting.”

She nodded and began unbuttoning her blouse. It was funny
how steady her fingers were. How normal the act of taking off her clothes
seemed now. When she was done, she folded them and stacked them on the shelf
under the hall table. She checked her reflection in the mirror above it before
she went up the stairs. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in her at the moment.
Even the overwhelming attraction she had for him had balanced out somehow.
There were no highs and lows, only a constant excited energy that burned inside
her. Ready and eager to do for him and him alone.

His words the first night they’d been together in this house
came back to her.
“I want you conditioned to my needs, not your own.”

Needs. Was this all they had between them now? She fervently
hoped not. She prayed that when he got over his anger and forgave her there’d
be more for them than just needs.

“Over here,” he called.

She was more curious than surprised when she came to the
long, low rectangular table he stood by. The clear plastic sheet over it could
have been a shower curtain, although she didn’t see any metal grommets. Off to
his right was a higher square table that had two dozen or more tea-lights
burning, a bottle of what she assumed was oil, confirming the fact when she
read the label, and a funny-looking wax glob. Small, but shaped like a little
hat. Beneath the table was a container of water with chunks of ice and a couple
of facecloths.

“I thought we’d have an intimate chat about things. I’ll
make it fun. A creative spin on truth or dare.” He bent and patted the table.
“Stretch out on this for me.”

“On my stomach or back?”

He snapped up. Probably because he was expecting her to
complain, but she wasn’t going to. She trusted him more now than she ever had
before. After last night when he had every reason to lash out at her—she’d even
given him the opportunity to do it and he hadn’t. Oh sure, he was rough, but
gentle as well. He’d made sure she got more than just passing pleasure from the
encounter. Actually, she’d gotten clarity and peace and for that she’d follow
him to the ends of the earth and back again. A little wax play? She’d handle
it.

“On your back.”

He must have recently taken a shower as the ends of his hair
were damp and curled around the white collar of his shirt. She thrilled as she
watched him roll up his sleeves. Loving how the fabric strangled his thick
biceps and when his eyes shifted and raked her from head to toe, she shivered.

“The game rules are as follows. I’m going to ask you a
question, and after you answer it I’ll judge how much I like it. If I like it
enough I give you the truth and show you what part of your body I want to drip
this wax on.” He swept a hand toward the flickering flames. “But,” he gazed
right into her eyes, “if I don’t like your answer it’s a dare, which means that
I get to drip the wax in more sensitive places that I’d normally reserve for
the hardcore pain sluts.”

“I trust you.”

“I’ve never given you any reason not to. But you on the
other hand…?”

Okay, so it was obvious she was in for some punishment.
Providing she answered him truthfully how bad could it get?

Pretty darn bad, she decided five minutes later, when he
intimately stroked her down with jojoba oil. He’d tied her hair back out of the
way before explaining that the oil applied to her skin would make the wax
removal process easier. At this point she didn’t care about that because he was
wiping the cloth with the oil between her legs. Up one thigh and down the
other, stopping in the middle to press and circle the oil on… Wait, did that
mean that he was going to be dripping wax there?

“Keep your arms over your head the way I like them. Very
good. Now,” he stood up and tossed the cloth beside the water container, “I
just need to check a couple of these and we can start.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it
out slowly. That’s when she heard music. Opening her eyes, she realized that
Ted had turned off the other lights in the room. The flickering flames on the
table the only source of illumination.

“Eyes on me while we play.”

She nodded.

“All right. First question.” He trailed his index finger
from the center of her breasts to her mound and back again. “Why didn’t you
ever mention anything to me about the engagement?”

“If I told you about that, I would have had to tell you
everything and then you’d know.”

“What?” His voice was silky and deep.

“That I was worthless.”

He sighed. “I call this a truth. This is my favorite part of
your body.”

He lifted the tin cup so there was at least a foot, maybe
more between it and her skin and slowly dripped the wax on her breast. The
first splat burned and tightened as it hardened, then the second and a third,
as he continued working in a steady circle around the outside of her nipple.
Just as she’d done with the clamps and the flogger, she relaxed into the pain.
She welcomed the discomfort until her mind had been tricked to embrace the
sensations as pleasurable.

“Next question. Did you purposely try to divert my attention
that night in the bath?”

“No…maybe. I don’t—”

“Stop talking. The fact that you’re unsure tells me you
thought about this after you did it, and not before. So I say truth because it
wasn’t a conscious action on your part.”

He picked up another cup and repeated the same process with
her other breast. Only this time he was even slower. He may have even shortened
the distance between the cup and her skin because the instant sting was
sharper, but she managed it by breathing through it.

He dripped the last of the cup on her and said, “Very good,
Jo.”

The tightness of her breasts encased in the wax felt highly
sensual. As if a pair of hands cradled her.

“These nipples are begging for attention, aren’t they?” He
reached into his pocket and pulled out the pincher clamps. The ones she hated.
They were small and bit into her like a bitch.

“Deep breath.”

She winced and winced again when he got the other one on.

“Next question. Why did you think I’d believe you were
worthless?”

“Because…because everyone I loved let me down.”

“Dare.”

Her heart pounded. “Why? I told you the truth.”

He lifted a fresh tin cup to his mouth and blew out the
flame. “Yes, but it’s only half the truth. You’re good at those.”

She drew in air as he poured a long thin line of wax from
the top of her stomach down, bowing out to the right around her navel and ending
at the center of her mound.

“You see where I’m going with this?”

“Yes.”

“So finish your answer.”

“Because no one loved me enough to protect me.”

“Truth.” He took the clamps off her and this time when he
poured the wax over her breasts he went in horizontal strips.

She closed her eyes and breathed through the wholly unique
sensations. Each time liquefied wax hit a patch of some already hardened on her
skin, it tingled and warmed and tightened.

She moaned.

“Spread your legs. Let’s make the game more interesting.”

She kept her eyes closed but completely relaxed for him.
Letting him readjust until her legs were bent and the sides of her knees rested
against the table. She heard the hum before she felt the vibrator press against
her.

“Let’s see how you do with this.” He worked it up into her
and when it was fully inserted he leaned over and whispered, “How does that
feel?”

“Good.”

He straightened. “Next question. Why was your hard limit not
wanting to say I love you?”

She bit her lip and tried not to flex into the thrum of the
vibrator. It felt so good but he wanted an answer. “So I didn’t get let down.”

Ted knew it was cheating. She’d given him a solid answer,
and he should have accepted it, but he couldn’t let it go. He slipped a hand
between her legs and pushed against the dildo. “Who? Who did you say that to
that let you down?”

“My dad,” she panted. “My mom and Anjay.”

That last landed like an invisible punch to his gut. “You
told Anjay you loved him?”

“Yes. Like a brother before he…”

“Truth.” He didn’t want to lose her. So he quickly got her
refocused by drizzling hot wax on her inner thighs. He was careful to add a few
inches of distance. The skin here was much more sensitive than the skin on her
stomach.

“I’m not like them, Jo. You know now that I would never let
you down, don’t you?”

She flexed and sighed. “Yes.”

He hesitated with the rest of his pour and whispered, “Do
you know why I couldn’t? Why it’s impossible?”

She whimpered and pivoted. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“You understand and accept all my needs and desires without
judging.”

“Very good.” He dripped some more wax and also upped the
dial on the dildo for good measure.

“Last question before the grand finale.” He tapped her on
the cheek and waited until she opened her eyes to look at him. “Why do you love
your Master, Jo?”

She didn’t blink. “You’ve forced me to grow. To be true to
myself and face my challenges. Through you I’ve reclaimed my self-worth.”

“Through me?” The immeasurable pleasure that swept through
him with those words astounded him. “Truth.” He searched her face before he
tipped the last of the wax on her.

“
Mmm…
”

“You know what part of your body I want. The canvas I want
to paint.”

“Yes,” she rubbed her cheek against her shoulder and
whispered, “it’s yours.”

“I want to hear you say the words.”

He took the vibrator out of her and put it aside. Rubbing
two fingers over her, he decided the hot liquid there would rival the wax he
was sure. He reached for the cap. The little wax clit cover he’d made to
protect that sensitive area. Parting her glistening slit, he fit it over her
there.

“Close your eyes.” He pressed the hard wax against her hood
and softly spoke as he worked. “Relax and breathe. There’s no more questions.
Just feeling. Only feeling.”

He went slow as he drizzled the liquid over her breasts and
stomach. Alternating between horizontal and vertical lines. Sometimes he moved
in circles, especially around her breasts. She had such great tits, and he
loved watching her back arch when he came just a little too close.

Now for the fun. He used one full cup to draw a large “V” on
her mound. The point of which stopped just short of her slit. He was careful
not to let it drip into her folds as he worked. She was in a state of euphoria,
he could tell by the pattern of her breathing, the goose bumps across her skin
and the way her limbs lay as if they were weighted down or cemented into place.

Perfect timing. He collected the second to last cup and
angled it over the apex of her thighs. Making sure she was spread and the wax
cap was positioned just right. “Stay still.”

He wasn’t sure she heard him, but he’d know soon enough. He
poured the wax in one steady stream as it landed and folded over the cap. Not
too much that it would go over it, just enough that it covered it. So that the
new heat would melt the old solid and—

“Ahh…”

He liked the sound of that and liked the little twitch her
fingers made too. He tipped the tin and more hot liquid fell.

“Mmm…”

She pivoted her hips and some of the wax slid and slipped
down into her natural pooling liquid. The sight got his cock swelling harder
than it already was. Fuck.